The house had been silent for hours, wrapped in that deep, still kind of quiet that only came after midnight. A pale strip of moonlight stretched across the front yard, catching on the windows like something out of an old 2000s romance film.

Kian stood at the edge of the lawn, staring up.

Her window was open—just slightly.

A sign.

He exhaled slowly, flexing his fingers before reaching for the drainpipe. It was colder than he expected, rough beneath his palms. He tested his weight once… twice… then began to climb.

The metal groaned softly.

He froze.

Waited.

Nothing.

So he kept going.

His foot slipped for a second, heart jolting into his throat, but he steadied himself, pressing closer to the wall. The climb wasn’t long, but it felt endless—every movement careful, controlled, like one wrong step could ruin everything.

Finally, he reached the ledge.

His chest rose and fell quickly as he shifted his weight, fingers curling around the frame of her window. Up close, he could see the soft glow of her lamp, the outline of her room exactly how he remembered it.

He tapped once.

No response.

He frowned slightly, then tapped again—just a little louder.

Inside, something moved.

The bedsheets rustled.

Then her silhouette sat up.

“Kian…?” Your voice was barely audible, thick with sleep and disbelief.

He couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. “Yeah.”

You rushed over, pushing the window open wider. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” He said, softer now.

Your expression shifted—annoyance flickering for a second before something warmer replaced it. You grabbed ahold of his arm and pulled him inside.

He climbed through, landing quietly on the carpet. For a second, you just stood there, close enough to feel each other’s breath, the outside world completely shut out.

“You’re actually insane,” You murmured.

“Yeah,” He said, eyes not leaving hers. “But it worked.”

A small, involuntary smile slipped onto your face.

And then—

A sound.

A slow, unmistakable creak from the hallway.

Both of you turned toward the door instantly.

Your smile vanished.

“My Da,” You whispered.

Kian’s heartbeat slammed against his ribs. The room suddenly felt too small, too exposed.

The footsteps came closer.

The creak in the hallway stretched longer this time—closer.

Your eyes widened, panic flashing across your face. Without thinking, you latched into Kian’s wrist and pulled him down.

“Lamp—” You whispered.

He reached blindly, fingers fumbling for the switch before clicking it off. The room dropped into darkness, lit only by the faint silver glow of moonlight spilling through the window.

“Get down,” You breathed.

Kian dropped beside the bed, the carpet soft beneath his hands. Kian pressed himself low, shoulder brushing against the side of the mattress as you climbed in above him, pulling the covers up quickly, trying to steady your breathing.

The doorknob turned.

A quiet click.

Kian’s entire body went rigid.

The door opened slowly, a thin slice of warm hallway light cutting across the floor—stopping just inches from where his hand rested.

“…You still awake?” A voice called softly.

You shifted slightly in the bed, forcing your voice to sound sleepy. “Mm… no… just trying to sleep.”

A pause.

Kian barely dared to breathe. He could hear everything—the faint ticking of a clock, the soft rustle of the sheets above him, even the uneven rhythm of your breathing as you tried not to give anything away.

The light didn’t move.

For a second, it felt like whoever stood in the doorway knew.

Like they were looking right at him.

“Thought I heard something,” The voice said finally.

Kian’s fingers curled into the carpet.

Another pause.

Then—

“Goodnight.”

The door clicked shut.

Darkness returned.

Silence.

Neither of you moved at first. It was like your bodies hadn’t caught up yet, still stuck in that moment of almost-being-caught.

Then, slowly, you leaned over the edge of the bed, whispering, “Kian?”

“I’m here,” He whispered back.